


Mistletoe Kiss (And More)

by inukagome15



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Mistletoe, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 16:16:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2818415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inukagome15/pseuds/inukagome15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony was not some poor schmuck who would get caught under mistletoe with the man of his dreams. Until he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistletoe Kiss (And More)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [missmeagan666](https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmeagan666/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Art of Kissing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1758185) by [inukagome15](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inukagome15/pseuds/inukagome15). 



> missmeagan666 asked months ago for a continuation of the chapter "Mistletoe Kiss" in [The Art of Kissing](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1758185), involving sex. Now I finally managed to do it.
> 
> I do hope you enjoy. The first 2,000 words are the mistletoe kiss, and the rest is sex. I hope it's not horrible.

There was snickering and what sounded like a stifled giggle coming from somewhere in the vents. Tony did not want to know why an assassin was giggling in the vents, but he had the suspicion that he was going to find out one way or another.

If only it didn’t have anything to do with his almost nonexistent pride (“almost” being the key word here because he was _not_ a pushover, okay), but Tony wasn’t holding out hope or anything. He’d given up on that the fifth time Natasha had delivered a truly awful joke in a deadpan voice and then sauntered off while leaving Tony gaping after her.

And he’d thought _Clint_ was going to be a jokester.

In any case, it was a few days to Christmas and practically everyone had convened on the penthouse floor because that was where all the fun tended to happen. There was an absolutely enormous tree propped up against the windows, and it was decorated with the gaudiest ornaments that the Avengers had managed to find. The worst decoration– a truly horrible looking cherub with rosy cheeks, a lecherous smirk, and a large diaper – that was the crowning jewel on top of the tree had actually been contributed by Steve.

No one had looked at him the same way afterwards.

It had also given Tony much mental fodder when it came to his imaginary conversations with Steve because it meant the guy had a sense of humor and knew how to use it. Which meant he was a man after Tony’s own heart, and Tony didn’t quite know what to do with that information.

He was really awful at relationships; just look at Pepper.

There was another muffled snicker from the vents and what sounded like metal clanging against metal, and if Natasha had gotten James up in there, Tony was going to have _words_ with her. (Or not. He valued his dick, thank you very much.)

Stepping into the elevator that would take him down to the level where Pepper’s office was, Tony peered up at the ceiling to find a strand of mistletoe innocently sitting there. He narrowed his eyes at it, but it wasn’t giving up its secrets.

Well, it was Christmas, and mistletoe was just par for the course. It wasn’t like SI had any policies prohibiting stringing mistletoe up, and some overzealous employee had probably put it up hoping to get some poor schmuck under it.

Tony was not some poor schmuck.

But he also wasn’t a complete killjoy, so he left the mistletoe alone despite his better judgment and exited the elevator to go bug Pepper into possibly leaving work early so she could entertain him.

Half an hour later found Tony back in the elevator, having been ousted from the office by an eager Happy, who had come to take Pepper out on a _date_. It was completely mind-boggling, not in the least because Tony hadn’t seen that coming at all.

Musing (and not pouting at all) over this new development, Tony entered his living room and flopped down on his very comfy sofa, stretching out on his back to contemplate the ceiling and life. He frowned only a moment later upon finding no less than five strands of mistletoe decorating the ceiling.

This was not the work of an overzealous employee…

There was no muffled snickering or giggling, but Tony just knew that if he could hear it, he would. Someone had put up mistletoe, and he’d put money on it being either Natasha or Clint; James seemed the type but was still too skittish.

Well, luckily there was no one else in the room. Tony would ordinarily jump at kissing his extraordinarily attractive teammates, but he had no desire to sour what were actually wonderful working relationships. (Yes, really, shut up, Rhodey.)

Not wanting to push his luck, Tony left the living room and headed for his workshop, which was guaranteed to be mistletoe-free, and not in the least because Dummy would happily set it all on fire. JARVIS had been given very strict instructions on that front, which meant that the only decoration the bots received was a metal contraption shaped like a tree. It still had some presents stuffed under it, none of which Tony had a hand in making or wrapping.

Several hours later, Tony just happened to crane his neck back to stretch it and found an innocuous piece of mistletoe hanging above the doorframe. The fact that it was in plain view of Dummy’s charging station made it all the stranger, especially since the bot had seemed particularly excited for some odd reason that was not at all mistletoe related.

Now slightly creeped out, Tony pulled the mistletoe down and stuffed it into a pocket, not wanting to trash it in the workshop for fear of Dummy setting fire to it and the rest of the room. He gave the room one last suspicious look before leaving.

The penthouse was still empty, so Tony went to the bar to pour himself a much needed drink. He soon regretted this decision when Steve came in three minutes later with a rather confused look on his face.

“I thought there was a party?” Steve asked, catching sight of a frozen Tony behind the bar.

Tony recovered quickly, not at all glancing up at the mistletoe. There was one right over Steve’s head. “Not that I’ve heard of. Why?”

“Bucky just told me to be here at this time because there’d be ‘food, girls, and other stuff,’” Steve said, using air quotes for the last part.

Tony snorted, his scotch nearly going down the wrong pipe. He set the glass down, wheezing as he brushed off Steve’s concern. “No, no… Just slightly perturbed that your friend has a sense of humor under all that stone. No girls allowed up here, except for lovely assassins and scientists with brains that make me very jealous.”

“Those were probably the girls Bucky was talking about,” Steve remarked dryly, nodding. His eyes skipped from the glass by Tony’s hand to his face. “So no party?”

“Nope.” Tony shrugged very casually, carefully not looking up because he knew full well there was a strand of mistletoe hanging over their heads right now. He was no way in _hell_ kissing Steve. It would be very awkward, not in the least because Tony felt like jumping Steve’s bones 99% of the time anyway. Kissing wouldn’t help that feeling; Tony would probably maul him the moment they touched lips.

“Okay.” Steve nodded again, fingers rapping against the countertop. He took a moment before he spoke again. “Have you…seen anything…odd?”

“Not really,” Tony lied, still not looking up.

Steve’s brows pinched together in that worried manner that made Tony want to smooth the furrow out. “Okay.” He didn’t sound comforted.

“Have you?” Tony couldn’t resist asking.

“Probably nothing,” Steve said, “but I think someone showed Bucky the vents.”

“I knew it!” Tony promptly coughed when Steve gave him an alarmed look. “I mean, I thought I heard something that sounded like it.”

“So you have seen something weird,” Steve said.

“‘See,’ no,” Tony said, still lying through his teeth. “But you didn’t say anything about hearing.”

Steve rolled his eyes, a fond smile tugging at his lips. “Of course you’d use that as a loophole. Then have you heard anything else?”

“Lots of snickering,” Tony admitted, shrugging minutely. “I don’t want to know why.”

Much to Tony’s surprise, Steve turned a bit pink at that, his neck and ears flushing adorably. “Yeah, uh… Probably not.”

Tony raised his eyebrows questioningly, only to receive a slight headshake before Steve turned his focus to their ostentatious Christmas tree, which was now glowing brightly in rainbow-colored lights as the sun went down. It made the ugly cherub at the top even uglier.

“I don’t want to know where you got that thing,” Tony said eventually, gesturing to said cherub.

Steve gave him an amused smirk, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Probably not,” he agreed.

Ugh, was this man trying to kill Tony with cuteness here?

Fortunately, he was saved from dying from cute by the arrival of James, who gave the entire room a casual look before throwing himself down on the sofa and sprawling in what had to be the most inelegant manner Tony had ever seen. And _this_ had been the Winter Soldier? He gave Steve a casual wave with his left arm (something which still made Tony squee in excitement whenever he got his hands on it) before pursing his lips and staring up at the ceiling like it was a painting.

Tony took the opportunity to pick up his drink, taking a long gulp from it before James very casually said, “You’re standing under mistletoe,” and then he was spluttering on the burn of scotch going down the wrong pipe and trying desperately not to choke on lack of air. _Very attractive, Stark._

Steve had actually come around to help Tony out, patting him on the back while asking if he was okay.

“I’m fine,” Tony managed after a large gulp of water from the sink. “So fine.”

James, the little sneaky bastard, was staring at the two of them with an implacable expression on his face. “That wasn’t kissing,” he pointed out.

“No shit!” Tony smacked his hand into the skin above his reactor. His throat still burned, but at least he could breathe.

“There will be kissing,” James added, eyebrow quirked and arms folded across his chest. A shit-eating grin wouldn’t have been remiss at this point.

“Bucky!” Steve hissed, sounded utterly mortified, shooting his pal a warning glare.

“Just telling it like it is,” James said casually. “Unless the mistletoe custom’s changed?” He added a moment later, “And full-on macking – none of that cheek kissing stuff you like, Steve.”

“Bucky,” Steve groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Please stop.” The last two words were garbled.

“I have duct tape,” James said blandly, rubbing the fingers of his right hand across the red metal star of his left arm.

Oh _fuck_. Between potentially mauling Steve because of a kiss or mauling Steve because they ended up being duct taped together thanks to his crazy friend, Tony was going to go for the kiss because at least then he could run away. That wasn’t possible with duct tape, not without ripping off several layers of skin and Tony _liked_ his skin.

Pressing his lips together, Tony straightened and turned to face Steve. Steve was looking rather panicked now, eyes looking anywhere but at Tony, and that hurt more than Tony wanted to admit. Was it so reprehensible to kiss Tony?

“Sorry about this,” Tony murmured, reaching up a gentle hand to touch Steve’s jaw and angle his head appropriately, “but I’d rather not be duct taped to you for hours on end, no matter how cute you are.”

Before Steve could say something that would cement how much he did _not_ want to kiss Tony, Tony pressed their lips together. He’d been going to keep it chaste regardless of James’s demands of “full-on macking” because otherwise there’d be full-blown sex happening right here, and it was totally going according to plan because his lips were on Steve’s and now all he had to do was pull back and—

Okay, that was more problematic than planned, because Steve’s arms had clamped around Tony’s body and now he was being pressed up against the bar and practically devoured. Steve was really _going for it_.

Tony thought he heard James say something along the lines of “Okay, wow. Steve, man—”, but he was too busy losing his brain through his mouth by Steve sucking on his tongue in the absolutely filthiest way and pulling out a low moan before he could stop it.

“Have safe sex!” James shouted through the haze in Tony’s brain.

There was no way Tony could respond to that at the moment because Steve had just hitched his hands under Tony’s thighs and lifted him up to sit on the countertop. This changed their angle so that Steve was craning his head back and Tony could better run his fingers through that blond hair and tug.

This pulled out a really deep groan that rumbled through Steve’s chest and vibrated through Tony because they were really pressed up against each other, arc reactor to sternum, but Tony just didn’t care because _holy shit Steve could kiss_.

Mistletoe was _awesome_.

His head dropped back in invitation as Steve moved down to kiss and bite Tony’s neck, eventually coming to a stop and sucking at the base, drawing out a hitched moan from Tony before he could stop himself.

Steve’s arms tightened around Tony, his hands shifting under his ass and squeezing. Tony bucked up instinctively, hearing a faint crash as the glass he’d been using tipped over and rolled off the counter.

Lips moved across Tony’s neck to his collarbones, teeth nipping at the skin before kisses were scattered on the stinging skin.

“Steve – Steve—” Tony moaned, legs coming up around Steve’s waist. His hands were fisted in Steve’s hair, keeping him still as Steve sucked a mark into the skin just above Tony’s shirt. “I-I want—” What did he want? He was aching, and the lack of blood to his brain was making it increasingly difficult to think beyond calculating how long it should take to get to the nearest flat surface.

“What, Tony, what?” Steve’s lips brushed against Tony’s burning skin, his tongue darting out to lick against the mark he had made.

“Do you—” Tony heaved in a desperate breath, rocking restlessly against Steve despite himself. “Do you want this?”

Steve looked up at him through his eyelashes, eyes blown black and his lips pulled in a devastating grin. “Does it look like I don’t?”

Tony loosened his fingers, brushing fingers against Steve’s cheek, feeling the heat coming off him. “Moving awfully fast.”

“I’ve wanted this for a long time.” Steve moved to place an achingly soft kiss against Tony’s lips, one that had Tony’s toes curling in his shoes. “Do _you_ want this?” He attempted to draw back, but Tony tightened his legs around him, holding him still.

“I want this,” Tony assured him. “I so want this. But I just need to be sure.”

“I’m sure,” Steve said, thumbs slipping under Tony’s waistband. “I’m so sure.” His lips trailed down Tony’s neck, coming to play at his collarbone.

“Then”—Tony gasped as Steve nipped at his neck—“bed?”

Steve made a disagreeable sound, suddenly hefting Tony off the counter. “Too far.”

Tony was going to ask where Steve intended on taking them – he was – but he was distracted by the way Steve’s hands were positioned. One was supporting his weight, but the other was untucking his shirt and trailing up the bare skin of his back, sending shivers down Tony’s spine.

Before he knew it, Steve had Tony down on the couch and was rapidly pulling off his shirt with a single-minded focus that Tony could really get behind. Steve’s own shirt quickly followed, and then Tony’s hands were trailing down that glorious expanse of skin, fingers dancing over hard muscles and nipples, giving them a small tweak before moving on to stroking down Steve’s well-defined biceps.

Steve shivered under Tony’s ministrations, looking down at him with dark eyes. “This good?” he asked, his voice so low that Tony’s fingers tightened on Steve’s arms reflexively.

“So good.” Tony reared up, catching Steve’s mouth in a dirty kiss that was just as hot as it was wet. He deftly unbuttoned Steve’s pants, fingers shaking only a little when Steve reached down to palm him, the heel of his hand digging down into Tony’s cock. Groaning into Steve’s mouth, Tony managed to unzip Steve’s pants and dive his hand into a pair of tight briefs, fingers curling around a similar hard length that pulsed in his grip. “Hello there,” he breathed, grinning against Steve’s mouth.

“You talking to me?” Steve nipped at the corner of his mouth, perfunctorily undoing Tony’s pants and pulling away from Tony long enough to shuck them and Tony’s shoes in one smooth movement before he was back to covering Tony’s body, eyes roving over him.

Tony let himself relax, lying back against the soft couch cushions. “Like what you see?” He wasn’t as young as he used to be, but he wasn’t losing it either. Steve had undoubtedly seen his share of scars, and the arc reactor was no secret.

“Oh yes.” Steve’s hands framed the arc reactor briefly before stroking down Tony’s sides with a reverence that had Tony’s breath catching in his throat.

Broad hands curved over Tony’s hips, stroked once down his thighs, and then went over the sensitive skin of the insides of his thighs. Tony trembled, and it wasn’t until Steve kissed his stomach that he realized his eyes were closed, and that was just criminal. He forced them open, only to have to close them again upon seeing the way Steve was bent over him, eyes focused on Tony’s face with an intensity that seemed misplaced given what they were doing.

Tony wet his lips, letting his head fall back against the couch. “What’s the plan, Cap?”

“Just Steve.” Steve moved up Tony’s body, his chest brushing against the arc reactor. He kissed Tony’s mouth, the motion unusually gentle for what had just been happening. “And I don’t know,” he admitted. “I didn’t think this would actually happen.”

Tony traced hands over Steve’s back, watching as the other shivered, his eyes closing. His hands stopped at Steve’s waistband, fingers trailing over the cloth. “For starters, let’s get this off.”

The pants were kicked off so quickly that it was a miracle nothing tore. The briefs met a similar fate moments later, and Steve’s warmth was back so quickly Tony barely had time to miss it.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want,” Tony said, all too aware of where Steve was pressed against his thigh. He swallowed, a wave of _want_ rushing through him and heating his skin.

“I want to do everything,” Steve said, forehead dropping to Tony’s.

“Okay.” Tony trailed a thumb over Steve’s ridiculously defined jawline. “We’ve got time for that.”

“But I want this,” Steve murmured, shifting against Tony’s body, his hips rocking twice before stilling. “Just this is fine.”

“Just this…?” Tony trailed off, letting his other hand wrap around Steve’s cock to slowly stroke him. His own throbbed in response to the small moan Steve let out and the way Steve’s eyes slipped closed.

“Anything.” Steve rocked his hips into Tony’s hand, his own hands curled into fists next to Tony’s head. All his weight was on his elbows, keeping his body carefully away from Tony to stop from crushing him to the couch.

There was so much Tony _wanted_ to do. He wanted to suck Steve down, blow his mind in a way that no other had ever done before. He wanted to fuck Steve; he wanted Steve to fuck him. He wanted to wake up next to Steve sleeping and fall asleep next to Steve.

There were literally no words for everything he _wanted_ to do with Steve.

But given that they were currently lying on his couch in the middle of his penthouse where anyone could walk in (but hopefully not if JARVIS had locked it down and James had warned them all off), Tony was going to do this and blow Steve’s mind later.

Before Tony could move, Steve opened his eyes. “Let – let me…” Steve pulled away from Tony, moving down and taking Tony in his mouth before Tony could react.

“Oh _fuck_!” Tony’s hips bucked once before he managed to regain control, but even then he couldn’t stop himself from trembling minutely, Steve hiking his legs up over his shoulders for better access. “St-Steve—”

Steve _hummed_ , and Tony shouted, fingers clutching for anything he could grab, which turned out to Steve’s hair and the nearest cushion.

It was so warm and wet, _and oh God that was the back of Steve’s throat_. The man had no gag reflex, and he just _swallowed_.

Tony writhed. “Ah, Steve, how—” A groan broke off his words as Steve drew back momentarily to suck at the head before he bobbed back down, taking Tony all the way in until his nose was pressed to Tony’s groin.

There was a look of intense concentration on Steve’s face, and Tony barely had the presence of mind to wonder if Steve was getting anything out of it before he hummed again and that was it. Tony was lost.

He had enough time to choke out a brief warning before he was coming down Steve’s throat, his hips held still by Steve’s hands. All that just made it hotter, and Tony squeezed his eyes shut, legs going limp as he came down from his high.

“Oh my God.” Tony struggled to catch his breath, wincing slightly as Steve let his sensitive cock go, lips swollen and red. “Where did you – _how_ —”

Steve was red, but he flushed redder still as he said in a raspy voice, “The Internet’s helpful.”

“And it taught you how to give a blowjob?” Tony scrabbled at Steve’s shoulders. “C’mere, come _on_.” He tasted himself on Steve’s tongue, and heat flushed through him all over again at the thought, even though nothing was happening for at least a couple of hours.

Steve was still hard, red and flushed against his stomach. Tony pressed him back against the couch, hand curling possessively around Steve’s hip.

“You – you don’t have to—” Steve broke off with a hitched moan as Tony swallowed him down, relaxing his throat to take him in. There was a spatter of warm liquid over Tony’s tongue, tasting only mildly of what the finished product would be like when Tony was done. He hummed approvingly, his free hand cupping Steve’s balls and rolling them.

“Ah, _Tony_.” Steve’s hands were fisted at his sides, knuckles white. Tony was really going to have to do something about that next time they did this. Having a hand in his hair was one of the best parts of giving a blowjob.

Humming again, Tony went all the way down, pressing his nose to Steve’s groin and inhaling as best as he could, taking in sweat, the faint smell of leather, and an intrinsic smell that was all _Steve_. He stroked a finger down to Steve’s perineum, felt the way Steve’s thighs started to shake and tremble, and then ever so lightly stroked over Steve’s hole.

Steve was utterly silent when he came, only the hitch in his breathing and the way he exhaled telling Tony he’d liked it. There was also the way he grabbed hold of Tony’s shoulders seconds after finishing to pull him into a sloppy kiss, cleaning out whatever Tony hadn’t managed to swallow.

For a second Tony really wished he was a teenager again, but then Steve gentled the kiss, slowing it down to a simple peck against his lips.

There was so much in Steve’s eyes that Tony didn’t know how to interpret, but luckily Steve seemed to understand as he kissed him again, hand coming up to the back of Tony’s head. Steve drew them down to lie lengthwise on the couch, his other hand stroking down before coming to a stop in the small of his back.

“Mistletoe,” Steve murmured against Tony’s lips, laughing quietly.

Tony grinned into his mouth, pressing into his warmth. “I think we did a bit more than just kiss.”

“Yeah.” Steve smiled at him, eyes crinkling in the corners. “I’m gonna have to thank Bucky.”

“Thank him? I’m going to throw him a party.” Tony nosed Steve’s cheek. “You still want this?” he asked, needing to be _sure_.

“Anything,” Steve said, giving him another achingly soft kiss. “And everything.”


End file.
